“Well, but what has passed between us to-day makes you belong to me, does it not?” Allison questioned.
“Forever.”
“I don’t see, then, but that you have sworn yourself away,” she retorted slyly.
“Yes, I believe I have. What a lawyer you would have made, sweetheart!” Gerald responded, laughing again.
“Very well; it is a poor rule that will not work both ways,” Allison gravely observed; “I will not receive more than I am willing to give, and so, Gerald, our mutual watchword shall be ‘forever.’”
“My darling!” whispered the young lover, tears of emotion springing to his eyes, “surely such a spirit of loyalty should nerve my heart to any endeavor.”
“How can I let you go away across the ocean!” Allison broke forth, after a moment of silence, and in a voice of keen regret.
“Yes, it does seem a little hard that I must go,” Gerald returned; “but I am hoping a great deal from this coming year of experience with Mr. Lyttleton—I am impressed that it will be a stepping-stone toward the goal I wish to reach. Besides, I should not see much of you during the next six months, as, of course, you will soon return to school.”
“Yes; I am to go back on Saturday; but we will write to each other often.”
“Yes, I am sure there is no reason why we should not,” Gerald assented; “but, perhaps, it will be just as well that Mr. Hubbard should not know of our correspondence.”